


He Will Be Loved

by SupernaturalWinchester67



Series: He Will Be Loved [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, F/M, Fluff, Injury Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-07
Updated: 2018-12-07
Packaged: 2019-09-13 14:55:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16894719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SupernaturalWinchester67/pseuds/SupernaturalWinchester67
Summary: The reader’s senior year of high school is going great. Until a certain football game changes her and her best friend, Dean’s lives forever…





	1. Chapter 1

_“Y/N,”_  whined Dean, dropping his head on your shoulder as you walked home from your volleyball game, Dean pouting like a puppy dog. “Y/N.”

“You’re the one that wants to play football. I’m not stopping you,” you said, Dean huffing as he raised his head. “If you want to join the team, I could honestly care less, Dean.”

“You don’t sound like you could care less,” he said. You gritted your teeth, glaring back over your shoulder.

“I’m fine with it,” you said, Dean cocking his head.

“You don’t sound fine,” he said.

“Dude, sometimes when a girl says she’s fine, she really is. Until of course some guy annoys us until we aren’t fine,” you said.

“Is it your girl time again?” he asked.

“Dean,” you said, forcing a smile on your face. “You’re my best friend but you ever bring up my period again, I’ll whoop your ass, got it?”

“Yes mam,” he said, keeping a bit of distance on your walk home from the park.

“You want to come swimming and cool off?” you asked, Dean humming.

“I can never stay in the doghouse with you too long, can I sweetheart?” he said, throwing his arms over your shoulders.

“Uh huh.”

 

**Four Weeks Later**

A month in and senior year was going great. Your classes were easy and with friends, your schedule was a breeze and you were pretty sure Derek was working up the courage to ask you to homecoming this weekend.

You didn’t even think about Dean until you were over his house that Thursday night doing homework.

“Wait, you’re going with Derek?” asked Dean. “I thought we were going together.”

“Last year we didn’t. You took Rhonda,” you said, spotting Mary raising an eyebrow in the kitchen. “I’m going with Derek. What’s the big deal? I’ll still hang out with you there.”

“Nothing. Derek’s a big guy is all and we’re playing Homer. It’s a tough game. He’ll be all sweaty and gross,” said Dean.

“They have these fancy things called showers,” you said, Dean smiling at you.

“Oh do they?” he shot back, rolling his eyes.

“Is he some kind of bad guy I should know about?” you asked, Dean shaking his head. “Stop worrying about me then Dean.”

“Fine. What’d you get on number 3?”

 

“Hey Dean,” you said, leaning over the fence before the game got going, Dean jogging over with a huge grin.

“Aw, she came to one of my games,” teased Dean.

“I always come, dork,” you said, glancing over to the other team’s sideline.

“What’s up?” asked Dean, glancing down to see you had on his practice jersey.

“Derek’s nice but he’s a bit…stuck up for my taste. Besides, I’m not leaving my bestie hanging our senior year,” you said. Dean’s smile was infectious, a bit bashful as he wasn’t one to take praise well but it was all true. You knew you’d have a lot more fun tonight with him.

“Winchester! You got warm up!” you heard the coach shout, Dean sighing as he backed away.

“I’ll see you after the game and then we can run home quick to change?” he asked.

“Sure,” you said, walking away as Dean’s coach cocked his head at you to hurry it up. “Be safe out there.”

“Always am.”

 

You couldn’t believe the score. Tied up in the fourth quarter, your team doing far better than anyone expected them to be doing against Homer.

You saw Dean get tossed the ball, rare considering he didn’t have the experience the other guys did but he was fast and before you knew it, he was down the field.

He was just crossing into the end zone when a guy twice his size plowed into him, smacking his helmet. Dean dropped like a sack of bricks, ball fumbling out of his hands, body still as a few people started to notice he wasn’t getting up immediately.

“Come on Dean,” you mumbled, hopping up from your seat and down the bleachers, trying to get a better view. You hung around the entrance to the field, Dean still motionless, a few coaches around him now. “Come on, get up.”

“Y/N, watch Sam for us,” said John, appearing out of nowhere, Sam protesting but staying by your side as the Winchester’s ran out to the field.

“Is Dean gonna be okay?” asked Sam, the scrawny 13 year old looking up at you like you were some adult who knew the answer to everything.

“I don’t know Sammy. I don’t know.”

 

“Y/N,” said John, nudging your shoulder, stirring you awake from the hard waiting room chair. Sam was passed out next to you, head in your lap, covered in your jacket. “Thanks for taking care of Sam tonight.”

“No problem,” you said, glancing up at the clock, just after two in the morning. “How’s Dean?”

“You should get some rest, Y/N. Call your parents to come pick you up,” said John.

“Over my dead body,” you said, John stiffening up at your words.

“I had to try,” he said with a smile. He sat up Sam so you could stand up, laying him back down as Mary came around the corner with coffee.

“Hi sweetheart,” she said, giving you a hug, handing John the cup.

“Can someone please tell me how Dean is? You’re scaring me,” you said, the Winchester’s sharing a look.

“He’s okay. He just…” said Mary, looking over to John, holding his hand.

“He doesn’t have any feeling in his right leg. He can’t move it,” said John.

“Wait, he’s…” you said, John sighing.

“We don’t know yet. If we get him started in physical therapy soon there’s good odds he’ll be completely normal again,” said John.

“Can I see him?” you asked.

“He doesn’t want visitors right-“

“Listen,” you said, staring at them, turning around to look at Sam. “I know he is your son and his brother and he’s not my family but I know him. I know he’s gonna need somebody to tell him he’s gotta do this when I bet he thinks he just lost a big chunk of having a normal life. It’s Dean. I don’t care if he wants visitors right now cause I ain’t leaving until I see him.”

“You can see him,” said Mary, moving aside, pointing out which room down the hall. “Y/N. Try to get him to smile if you can.”

You nodded, walking slowly down to his room, poking your head inside to find an empty bed and a partly drawn curtain. You stepped inside and to the other side of the room, Dean staring blankly at the ceiling, a blanket pulled up over his torso. Apart from a bruise on his cheek, he looked okay.

“Hi Dean,” you said, walking by the side of his bed, Dean closing his eyes.

“Go away,” he said.

“Nope,” you said, grabbing a chair and sliding it over, sitting down and giving him a smile. “You’re stuck with me.”

“Please leave me alone, Y/N,” said Dean, turning his head away from you.

“We don’t have to talk,” you said, reaching your hand forward, interlacing your fingers with his. For a moment you thought he might try to jerk away but he just stared at your hands connected together. He bit down on his bottom lip and turned his head again, taking a shaky breath.

You ran a gentle hand through his hair, Dean shaking his head.

“Don’t do that,” he said.

“Why?” you asked softly, pulling your hand back.

“Because I’m not gonna cry in front of you and if you keep doing that, I’m gonna lose it. I ruined the rest of my life over a stupid game,” he said. He tossed his head back, clenching your hand tight.

“No you didn’t. It’s gonna suck for a while but you’re not gonna do it alone. I promise,” you said, Dean turning to face you. “It’s totally okay to cry in front of me too you know. If you want to.”

“I just want to go home,” said Dean, closing his eyes again, relaxing his hold on you.

“You will. I promise,” you said, standing up to give him his privacy only to find his hand squeezing yours.

“Can you stay?” he asked quietly.

“Yeah. I can stay, Dean.”

 

“Good afternoon,” you said a few weeks later, staring down at a panting Dean. “How’s PT today?”

“Exhausting,” he said, sitting upright. “Please tell me you didn’t bring more homework.”

“Nope. I got you something better,” you said, sitting down next to him, opening your backpack.

“If it’s another college application, I’m gonna strangle you,” said Dean.

“Winchester, we don’t threaten our PT buddies, do we,” said one of the physical therapists in the room, cocking his head. “Is that what I think it is, Y/N?”

“You talk to her? When?” asked Dean.

“Part of being a buddy. I get feedback on how my more snarky patients are doing,” he said, Dean blinking up at him.

“So she tells on me,” said Dean.

“I help figure out what works for you and what doesn’t,” you said. “And when you’re slacking.”

“So what’s my surprise. Am I getting a pony?” asked Dean with a cocky smile.

“Field trip actually,” he said, Dean’s face lighting up. “You have to earn it though. Sort of ties into that whole no slacking thing.”

“This is why I don’t like you Chad,” said Dean.

“It was hate a week ago. Don’t go soft on me Winchester,” said Chad with a smile. “If you make some improvements and stop skipping on your homework, I might let you out for an evening with your girlfriend.”

“Dude, for the last time, she’s not-“

“Uh huh. I want ten leg lifts by the time I come back around,” he said, walking off.

“Is he insane? I can barely do three,” said Dean.

“Let’s aim for five then,” you said, tossing your bag by the corner, Dean laying back down by the time you spun around. “I’ll get Abby on your ass.”

“Oh don’t do-“

“Dean,” said Abby, hopping over on one leg, the five year old staring down at Dean with a pout.

“Hey Abby,” said Dean, bracing himself.

He’d started out his PT alone but Chad quickly got him in one of the groups for kids and young adults. Abby was a spunky five year old that lost her leg about a month back and made sure to let everybody know when they weren’t doing what they were supposed to.

“You’ve been laying here all class,” she said.

“I’m tired,” said Dean, Abby crossing her arms, supporting herself on one leg like it was the most natural thing in the world. “Alright, show off. I’m going, I’m going.”

“You better be,” she said, pointing a finger in his face, hopping away with a smile to go rag on Rory from the looks of it.

“I thought five year olds were supposed to be cute, not evil badasses,” said Dean, stretching out his bad leg.

“Yet you give her your snack pack half the time,” you said, grabbing a medicine ball from the rack. “I think she’s got you wrapped around her finger.”

“Eh, she’s had a rough go of it lately,” said Dean, watching as you took a seat beside him. “Can’t we do the toss first?”

“Leg lifts. Let’s go,” you said, Dean sighing as you held a hand up above his feet, a little higher than he was used to. He lay back and shimmied his hips, wiggling the toes on his one foot. His left shot up like normal, tapping your hand, his right slowly raising up, the tip of his sock hitting your palm. “Give me four more, Dean.”

He struggled through another two, forcing himself through a fourth, whole body shaking when he grunted through the fifth.

“Fuck,” said Dean, dropping his leg, face in a sheen of sweat.

“That’s a new record,” you said, patting Dean’s leg, Dean moving to sit upright. “Did you feel that?”

“You patted my leg,” he said.

“I patted your bad leg,” you said, Dean staring down at his thigh.

“Maybe it is getting better after all,” said Dean, holding out his hands. “Toss time. Hit me with it.”

The medicine ball was Dean’s favorite because it made him feel strong again. You always picked a ball that was slightly too heavy for you, Dean chuckling when you caught it and fell backwards.

“You’re starting to get some muscle,” said Dean, pointing at your arms during a break. “Might even be strong enough to take on Abby.”

“No one is strong enough to take her on,” you said, Dean nodding his agreement. Dean focused the rest of class, working up a sweat that even impressed Chad.

“You know my favorite thing I’m looking forward to? Showering like a normal person again,” said Dean, slinging an arm over your shoulders as you hoisted him up and to his crutches.

“Showering is what you’re looking forward to?” you asked, Dean rolling his eyes.

“It’s one of the things. Not having you carry my sweaty butt back to my room everyday would be a good start too,” said Dean.

You’d just gotten him back to his room when Sam came in, Mary hot on his heels.

“Hey Sammy,” said Dean, holding up a hand. “I gotta shower little dude. I’ll be back in ten.”

“Can I help?” he asked.

“Sure. Just don’t drop me on the ground,” said Dean, Sam struggling under Deans weight but getting him into his bathroom okay.

“How’d he do today?” asked Mary.

“Good. Better I think. He smiled more,” you said.

“John’s bringing by dinner from his favorite restaurant in a little while. It sounds like he’s acting like his old self again,” she said.

“I think he’s starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel,” you said, standing with a stretch. “Tell him I’ll text him later.”

“You’re leaving?” she asked.

“My room is a mess. My mom’s gonna kill me if I don’t have it cleaned by the time she gets home from work,” you said.

“Y/N, I’ll call her,” she said. “Stay for dinner. John already grabbed something for you to eat too.”

“Mrs. Winchester,” you said, Mary shaking her head. “She is not gonna be happy.”

“One mother to another, she knows how much you’re helping Dean. She can let a messy bedroom slide,” said Mary.

“Thanks Mrs. Winchester.”

 

“Dude, you got  _jacked_ ,” you said, showing Dean a picture you’d taken on his first day in PT. “Not even two months and your arms are huge. You got strong ya little shrimp.”

“They are not and I’m almost six foot now, shrimp,” he said, squeezing your bicep. “You on the other hand…I don’t have to worry about boys breaking your heart. You’ll kick their ass for me.”

“Flirting with your girlfriend again, Winchester?” asked Chad, Dean moving his right leg to kick at him. “Well look at you with those smooth moves. No wonder she fell for you.”

“Chad,” you said. He tore a piece of paper off his clipboard and handed it to you.

“Dean. You are officially allowed to leave tonight as long as you stay with Y/N, understand?” said Chad, Dean nodding his head furiously. “Remember he has PT bright and early.”

“I hate the morning class,” said Dean.

“I know but Abby is going home tomorrow full time and she’d very much appreciate it if her crush was there,” said Chad.

“Alright,” said Dean, tugging himself up to the bench. “Bust me out of this joint Y/N.”

 

“Oh my god,” said Dean smiling as you sat him in the passenger seat of your car.  _“Freedom.”_

“I’m gonna shove you full of so much bad for you food, you’re not gonna know what hit you,” you said. “We got to pick up something first.”

Dean made an odd little sound when you pulled up to his house, cocking his head.

“Dad didn’t decorate for fall this year,” said Dean.

“Hey, thanksgiving is only like a week away. I’m sure he’ll have something up by then,” you said.

“So what are we grabbing?” he asked.

“It’s more of a who,” you said, honking the horn. You watched Sam slip out the front door and lock up behind him, sliding into your backseat with a smile.

“Hey short stuff,” said Dean, reaching his hand back to ruffle Sam’s head. “You need a haircut.”

“Seatbelt Sam,” you said, waiting until you saw him snap him to back out, Sam chatting to Dean about anything and everything. You knew how close they were and how much they missed getting to act like brothers.

It was no surprise that they started tossing fries at each other at the restaurant, Dean chowing down on a greasy burger, humming when he got a taste of pie again.

“Oh I missed you so much,” he said. “They don’t have pie in the hospital.”

“Do you think you can come home soon?” asked Sam, Dean shrugging.

“Not sure. I get in more PT when I’m at the hospital I’m told. I’d sort of like to feel like a normal teenager again though,” said Dean.

“You’ve never been normal,” said Sam, Dean nearly flicking some of his pie at him.

“Trust me. You’re way dorkier than I am,” said Dean.

“Says the guy that binge read Lord of the Rings the past month,” you said.

“Hey, Rudy hobbit is cool,” said Dean.

“He’s also named Sam,” he said, Dean leaning forward and wiping a smear of cherry on your cheek. “Oh you’re lucky it’s your day or else I’d have to steal your crutches.”

“That’d be cruel and unusual punishment,” said Dean, crossing his arms, smirking back at you. “I’m pretty good at getting around without them though.”

“Perfect,” you said, slapping some money down, scooting Sam out of the booth. You grabbed the crutches from beside Dean and cocked your head. “Let’s see you get to the door.”

“Y/N,” said Dean, glancing around. “We’re in public.”

“Don’t worry,” you said, handing the crutches to Sam. “I’ll catch you if you fall.”

“I can’t,” he said, staring at the door behind you.

“Yes, you can,” you said, bending down and forcing him up, Dean muttering in your ear. “We’ll do it together.”

“People are looking at us,” he whispered.

“Let them look. You just focus on your steps,” you said. Dean wouldn’t budge, his jaw rigid as he tried to stare you down. “Please try for me.”

“You realize this is embarrassing the shit out of me,” he said, taking a slow step forward on his right leg, a fast one with his left, another slow with his right, supporting most of his weight himself.

“Hey,” you said, Dean breathing a little heavier than normal when you stepped outside. “Two months ago you wouldn’t have been able to do that.”

“I guess so,” he said, Sam holding out the crutches. “Come on. Let’s try for the car.”

“You sure I’m not embarrassing you?” you asked.

“Yeah,” he said, taking a step. “I’m just…I want to be to strong again. Not feel so helpless.”

“You are definitely not helpless, Dean,” you said, walking with him back to the passenger side, Dean sitting down with a smile. “You’re just really bad at asking for help. Trust me. I’ve known you since I was four.”

“She’s right you know,” said Sam.

“Of course she is. She’s a woman, Sammy,” teased Dean.

“I want every Winchester in my car and buckled up pronto. We got places to be, boys,” you said.

“Where are you taking me now?” asked Dean.

“It’s a surprise,” you said. “If you hate it, don’t kill me cause it was totally Sam’s idea.”

“Was not!” said Sam.

“I’ll torture you both equally,” said Dean with a curious smile. “What is it?”

“You’ll find out soon enough.”


	2. Chapter 2

Dean was looking at you like you were nuts when you pulled into the student parking lot, turning his head to see people walking up the path behind the school to the stadium.

“Surprise?” you said, Dean only slightly mortified. “I thought you might want to see the last game of the year. Eat some pizza and nachos. Hang out with your friends.”

“Y/N, the last time I saw any of these people, they watched me get paralyzed,” said Dean.

“Yeah. So let’s go show you and that leg of yours off. It’s our senior year, Dean. Someday you’re going to wish you went to this,” you said. “You’ve got to be getting sick of just me by now.”

“Not really,” he said. “I mean, you didn’t run after that one day when I screamed my head off at you.”

“Sammy, help Dean out of the car,” you said, wanting him out of the car for just a minute. “I told you-”

“I still wish I hadn’t done that,” said Dean, Sam handing him his crutches. You followed after, Dean on his feet, Sam walking a head a ways as Dean started to move on his own. “I made you cry.”

“You were trying to get rid of me. I didn’t like that,” you said, grabbing his arm. “Hold up, you aren’t dressed yet.”

“What…” he said, leaning back against the hood as you tossed him his old jersey.

“You’re still on the team,” you said, unzipping your hoodie, showing his practice jersey you wore.

“I don’t deserve you,” said Dean, pulling his jersey down over his tee.

“I know,” you said, patting his butt, Dean jolting up, waving a crutch at you as he started walking.

“Watch it. I’m armed and dangerous,” he said, catching up to Sam, catching a few looks along the way.

“Sure you are,” you said, someone whistling behind you.

“Dean!” you heard, both of you spinning around, a guy on the football team that was late to the field jogging up the path. “Hey! You look great!”

“Thanks,” said Dean shyly, looking down, ignoring the stares he was starting to get.

“We heard you’re walking around again,” he said, looking down at Dean’s leg before stepping back. “Sorry man. Coach’ll kill me if I’m late again. Y/N, get him out more often. We miss him.”

“I will,” you said, Dean gnawing on his bottom lip as his friend jogged up the path. “What’s wrong?”

“If he missed me why didn’t he come visit,” said Dean.

“Because teenagers have no idea what the fuck they’re doing with their lives and anything like a hospital scares the shit out of them,” you said. “You barely let me come by.”

“Of course you came. You gave my parents some kind of evil death stare from the way I heard it,” said Dean.

“I…wanted to see you was all,” you said.

“Thanks for pushing,” said Dean. “I sort of need it sometimes.”

“Chad’s gonna throw you a party if you start talking like that in PT,” you said.

“And give him the satisfaction? No way,” said Dean with a laugh. He had to bump into you to avoid a toddler that decided to stop in front of him, your arms shooting out for him, Dean laughing before you could pull back. “Geez. He’s probably related to Abby. Devious little children.”

“Hi Dean!” you both heard to the right, your math teacher carrying Abby up on his shoulders. Your eyes went wide, Dean’s jaw dropping. “Are you going home tomorrow too?”

“No. Just out for tonight,” said Dean, the toddler running back over to your math teacher.

“So you’re the Dean that my niece said never did what he was supposed to in class,” said your teacher. “That’s not your style Winchester.”

“Yeah,” said Dean, looking at the ground again.

“Hey, it’s a nice fall night. Enjoy it,” he said, walking away.

“Dean, can I go sit with my friends?” asked Sam, pointing up into the bleachers as you made your way there, Dean taking a short break along the way.

“Sure, Sam,” said Mary as she walked up behind you, patting Sam’s head.

“Can I sleepover too?” he asked.

“If Gabe’s parents are alright with it and zip up your coat please!” she said as he ran off.

“He just turned fourteen. He’s not listening to his mother,” said John, chuckling as he pulled a hat down on top of Dean’s head. “Where’s this one’s coat?”

“Seriously?” said Dean, raising an eyebrow.

“Excuse me for being a concerned parent. I was simply trying to keep my oldest boy…stop laughing, Dean,” said John, Dean shrugging.

“It’s just nice to hear you act like Dad again,” said Dean. “Not like I’m special.”

“You’re a very special snowflake, just like everyone else. Now I can ground you if that’d make you feel better,” said John.

“Forget I said anything,” said Dean, John tossing one of Dean’s sweatshirts over his shoulder, taking the hat back.

“Are you behaving for Y/N?” asked Mary.

“God no,” you said, Dean scowling, twitching his lips up. “He hasn’t made a run for it yet.”

“Night’s still young,” said John, throwing an arm over Mary’s shoulders. “We’ll leave you kids be. Remember he’s got an eleven o'clock curfew.”

“How about we let it slide just this once,” said Mary, Dean’s eyes wide.

“Chad said-”

“We’ll talk to Chad. Enjoy yourselves, responsibly,” said John, bonking Dean on the nose and then you. “We know where you live.”

“Alright, I’ve had my fill of the old people,” said Dean, waving them off.

“You hear that honey? Sounds like we got an empty nest tonight,” said John with a chuckle.

“I think I’m gonna vomit,” said Dean, rolling his eyes as his parents went up the stands. “How on earth do you put up with my family.”

“They aren’t so bad,” you said, wrapping Dean’s hoodie around your waist. “Want to grab a bite?”

“Yes. I’m starving,” he said.

“We ate like two hours ago,” you said.

“I’m a teenage boy. I’m always hungry.”

 

You saw Dean start to smile more, start feeling less embarrassed as he talked to people, even getting into the game so much you had to steady him when he jumped to his feet.

“Hey, thanks for bringing me here,” said Dean at halftime. “Way better than the movie I thought we were going to.”

“I’m glad you think so,” you said, John braving the student section to wave at Dean. “I think he wants you.”

“What?” asked Dean, John just waving at him. Dean grunted as he got to his feet and hopped down, scrunching up his face as John told him to follow him. You watched Dean glance back up at you with a sigh when he realized where he was headed. You shrugged but saw him smile, getting in line as he went with the other seniors onto the field with their parents, getting their pictures taken for the yearbook. Dean got his own big round of applause you were positive he hated but knew he needed.

“Hey,” he said when he climbed back up the bleachers.

“Hey,” you said, playing dumb. “That was fun, wasn’t it?”

“How long have you been planning this,” he said.

“Uh, since you got hurt,” you said. Dean dropped his head back, shaking his head with a big smile.

“Come on sweetheart. As great as this is, I want some one on one time if that’s okay with you,” he said, nodding towards the exit.

“Sure,” you said, walking with him back to the car, Dean telling you where to drive, not sure why he’d told you to pull over on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere. “What are we doing?”

“Up on the hood,” he said, leaving his crutches behind, hoisting himself up, chuckling as you missed the first time. You glanced up and saw nothing but stars out in the country. You handed Dean’s hoodie over, still gazing up as he settled back into his spot.

Then his hand found yours and wrapped around it.

“I want to tell you something.”


	3. Chapter 3

You took a deep breath when his warm hand settled over yours, large and calloused from all his hard work but gentle around your softer skin.

“I joined the football team because I thought it would impress you, you know,” he said. You turned your head up, Dean gazing upwards, face dark but you could make out the small smile on his face. “You told me not to. You wanted me to be safe. I thought the worse that would happen was a concussion.”

“Dean…” you said, a shush leaving his lips.

“You wore my jersey that night. That’s…that’s a total, I’m in a relationship with that person thing and we both know it. I felt so good that night. I was going to ask you to dance at homecoming, as more than friends, for the first time ever. Everything was perfect and then…I woke up and I couldn’t move my leg,” he said.

You stayed quiet, Dean sighing as he squeezed your hand.

“But you made my crappy night okay. You made so many of my crappy days and nights okay again. No matter how much it hurt or I wanted to give up. If I got upset or pissed or just had days I didn’t talk, you always were there. I thought I was ruining your life, that you maybe you were pitying me or whatever. Then you go and do something sweet and thoughtful and I feel normal. I don’t know if I’d have ever gotten this far if you weren’t here,” he said.

“You would have,” you said, Dean chuckling.

“I can’t even give you a compliment without you trying to make me feel better,” said Dean.

“It’s sort of this fatal flaw I have. I can’t stand to see you hurt,” you said.

“You saw me in that game,” he said.

“Worst night of my life,” you said.

“Tonight’s one of the better one’s I hope,” he said.

“Seeing you happy, knowing that no matter what happens with that leg of yours, you’re going to be alright…it’s one of the good nights,” you said.

“I feel like I made you grow up too fast, to take care of me,” he said.

“I’ve been watching your back since the playground,” you said. “I’m not stopping now.”

“It’d be easier to watch it if we were…” he said, a breath of warm air hitting your face. “Please tell me I’m not reading this wrong.”

“No, you really aren’t,” you said, tilting your head as Dean’s lips brushed against yours. You’d been staring at those lips for years, soft full pink lips that were so gentle, full of so much love your heart nearly leapt out of your chest.

“Been wanting to do that since I was a little boy,” he said, pulling back with a smile, moving back in for more when you held up a hand.

“Car’s warmer,” you said, biting your bottom lip to hide your smirk.

“You really are perfect.”

 

“Good morning,” said John, arms crossed as you tilted your head up. You felt something soft and groany under your head, quickly realizing it to be Dean’s chest. “You two have a sleepover last night?”

“Uh, hi Mr. Winchester,” you said, shooting out of Dean’s bed, John squinting his eyes at you. “We were just super tired and I fell…asleep…on…you’re not buying this are you.”

“No,” said John, shaking his head. “Just tell Mary you slept on the floor and didn’t fall asleep after making out in the wee hours of the morning. It’s about time you two.”

“What?” mumbled Dean, stretching in bed, smiling at his room. “I’m home.”

“If you two start,  _you know_ , be smart,” he said, your hand running over your face. “Breakfast will be ready in a little while. Dean, you got PT at 8 so let’s get a move on.”

“I don’t wanna go back to the hospital,” he groaned, climbing out of bed, making his way down the hall with your help. He sat down in his old seat, lifting up his leg. “See? It works.”

“Between locking lips she didn’t tell you?” said John, Dean whipping his head around to you.

“Tell me what,” said Dean, Mary coming down the hall with a sleepy smile. “What is going on?”

“Yesterday wasn’t just a field trip. If was a test run, to see if you’re ready to go back home. You pushed yourself more yesterday than I’ve seen in class before and that’s saying a lot. You’re good on your crutches and…” you said, shrugging your shoulders.

“You were discharged yesterday, Dean,” said John. “You still have PT everyday for a good while but we figured Y/N should be the one to take you home. She’s been with you every step of the way.”

“I get to stay home,” said Dean, grinning like an idiot. “Does that mean I can go back to school?”

“We’re shooting for after the holidays for that because of your schedule but yeah, things should be getting back to normal soon,” said John.

“Ah, I’m home again,” said Dean, sighing before he chuckled. “Sammy! Wake up, Sammy!”

“He’s at a sleepover, Dean,” said Mary. “Oh, he’s been bouncing off the walls all week to have you back.”

“I know the feeling.”

 

**Five Months Later**

“And…stop,” said Chad, Dean panting as he stepped off the treadmill, Chad smiling down at his stopwatch. “You just ran a sub ten minute mile, Dean. You earned yourself a spot on the gold star board.”

“Chad. I turned 18 like three months ago,” said Dean, watching you laugh in the background. “I don’t need a spot on the kiddie hall of fame.”

“You ever gonna put this boy in line?” asked Chad.

“Eh,” you said. “He secretly loves to rile you up.”

“Really? My last day of PT you decide to tell him?” asked Dean.

“Oh I’ve known from the moment you hauled your butt in here, Winchester,” said Chad, sticking a big star sticker on Dean’s chest, slapping another on the wall by the door. “You can officially leave my service as a patient, Dean.”

“Lovely,” said Dean, rolling his eyes. He walked over and grabbed his backpack, sliding it on his shoulders, Chad smiling. “Dude, what.”

“Do you remember this?” he asked, going to a computer station in the far corner of the room, carrying over a laptop. He had a video up, hitting play to show Dean struggling to even move his leg, let alone lift it. “Seven months ago, you told me you couldn’t do this. Guess what? You did.”

“I had some help,” said Dean, Chad awwing. “Not you loser. From her.”

“Dean loves you too, Chad,” you said, Dean throwing his head back.

“You two together are evil, you know that?” said Dean.

“It must be why she applied for the hospital’s Physical Therapy program,” said Chad. “So we can continue our evil rein together.”

“Speaking of which,” said Dean. “She get in? We know you got the inside scoop on this thing.”

“Of course she got in,” said Chad, Dean’s face lighting up even if you’d already told him the news that morning. “Now seeing your application was a bit of a surprise.”

“Am I too grumpy for this kind of job?” he asked.

“You will find out in the mail later this week,” said Chad with a smirk.

“I just willingly ran for you,” said Dean.

“Yes, you got in too,” said Chad, holding up a hand. “Don’t tell anyone I let Sugar and Spice know early, alright?”

“Secret’s safe with us,” you said, Dean doing a jump. “I think he’s excited.”

“Yeah. If I could help somebody with what I went through…I think that’d be a pretty good way to live my life,” said Dean.

“I was in accounting before my accident,” said Chad, smiling when you both tilted your heads. “Hit by a car. Couldn’t feel a thing from the waist down.”

“But you’re so…energetic,” said Dean.

“I worked through it,” said Chad. “Just like you worked through your injury. Some people need a soft hand, some a firm, some a little of both, like you. Everyone is different. It keeps the job interesting. Now get out of here. I got more patients to serve.”

“Later, Chad,” said Dean, walking outside, holding out a hand for you. “You got much homework?”

“Nope,” you said, lacing your fingers together with Dean, lightly swinging your hands back and forth until you were in your car, driving to his house. “I can’t believe prom’s this weekend already. Senior year flew by.”

“Crawled. Crawled by for some of us,” teased Dean, climbing out of the car no problem, a bit of shock on his face sometimes at how everything worked like it was supposed to again. “I got something we need to do this afternoon.”

“What’s that?” you asked once you’d ditched your bags inside. Dean hit a button on his dad’s old cassette player, slow music filling the air.

“I never got to dance with you,” said Dean, resting his hands on your hips. You threw your hands up around his neck, Dean lowering his head to kiss you.

“We can dance all you want, Dean,” you said, Dean spinning the two of you around. “You look so happy right now.”

“I’ve been waiting seven months to dance with you. I’m definitely going to enjoy it.”


End file.
